


Together for the Holidays

by SerendipitousSong



Series: Season's Greetings [2]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Christmas Fluff, Cultural Differences, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gift Fic, Gift Giving, Holiday Fic Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:33:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21965008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerendipitousSong/pseuds/SerendipitousSong
Summary: Ultra Magnus has some questions about the holidays, particularly about Team Prime's yearly gift exchange.Just what does one gift to a stubborn, energetic and somewhat naive adolescent human femme?
Series: Season's Greetings [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581205
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Together for the Holidays

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SolainRhyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolainRhyo/gifts).



> No beta we die like mechs. Typos are the only way to post.

“Doctor.”

“Commander.”

Ratchet’s stiff greeting towards him, tapping furiously at the decrepit keys, held little of the underlying frustration Ultra Magnus felt strumming through the older Cybertronian’s field. “What questions can I answer for you this evening?"

“I do not require assistance with anything particularly challenging,” he answered, a bit taken aback at the question. Ratchet’s ability to read him like an unencrypted datapad always managed to give him pause. A stray bit of processing power divided itself to  _ wonder  _ (a human term for a universal action) if perhaps, Ratchet was psychic.

“However?” The medic’s digits tapped even faster, agitated.

“However, I am confused by this tradition I am being forced to uphold. You see,” he stepped up to the console and leaned his forearms against it comfortably, “Miko requested we follow a tradition from Rafael’s… household. She wrote down the entire team’s designations and asked us to pick one from a small container at random.”

“Ah, yes.” Ratchet seemed to finish his work at the console, and he signed off with a few quite  _ punctuated  _ clicks. “The gift exchange.”

Ultra Magnus blinked. “Yes.”

Ratchet huffed and turned to face him, leaning forwards on his elbows against the same console. “Raf initiated it the year before. It’s a holiday tradition of Rafael’s; he has such a large family, and it is difficult to purchase gifts for everyone, so they devised a plan to make sure everyone got a gift from somebody.”

“The gift exchange.” Magnus rubbed at his intake in a very humanlike gesture. “I got Miko.”

Vents from Ratchet’s chassis puffed warm air. Faint curls of steam rose between them. “Primus. What’s on her list?”

With sure servos, he pulled it out of subspace. The paper trailed to the floor thirty feet below. “A bluetooth amplifier--”

“Whatever  _ that  _ is.”

“A new guitar strap, another package of...picks?”

“For the guitar, of course.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Ratchet.” Ultra Magnus squinted at the tiny scribblings of the young human native. “She also requests a Godzilla plush, a copy of… er, Rocky Horror Picture Show?” He glanced at his long-time friend for confirmation, and received it in a nod. “A few of these posters advertising some sort of music group she likes. Actually,  _ several  _ different music group posters. They take up a third of her list.” His optics strained to read further before simply engaging his magnification software. “Some makeup?”

Ratchet shrugged. “June explained that -- cosmetics usually worn on the face. Miko likes to be very natural with her cosmetic choices, I wouldn’t worry very much over that particular request. Here, let me have a look.” The old medic offered his hand to take the long paper.

Handing it over, Magnus straightened and made his way towards the entrance of the base, and Ratchet followed silently, mumbling the list items off in a low rumble within his vocalizer.

“If you’re off duty, Doctor, we can go get our rations together, and perhaps enjoy the last vestiges of sunlight this planet has to offer before nightfall.”

A heavy grumble resounded from behind. “Not that there is much sunlight to begin with these days.” Ratchet swiped some tenderly falling  _ snowflakes  _ (more human terms, this one for this specific weather phenomenon) off his helm. “Blast this snow! You know, as much as I hated Jasper, at least it was mostly the same weather day in,” he hastily folded up the list to protect it from the snowflakes, “and day out! Agh, will you slow down!?”

“Getting old?” The Commander couldn’t help but tease. “My apologies, I will adjust my pace.” He slowed to a near standstill, allowing Ratchet to catch up with, and then pass him.

“Insolent youngster. Get over here right now or  _ so help me Primus-- _ ”

“Ratchet?”

“What?”

“Am I required to gift Miko every single item on her list?”

They stood just outside the messhall, another empty hangar set aside just for Team Prime’s using. Under the purple-ing sky, their warm frames melted snow into slush. Night was falling fast, and Earth's sun dipped deep underneath the black horizon, dragging the stars farther upwards. In contrast, bright, colorful strands of lights reflected off their plating, causing a small tremor of laughter to simmer in his vocalizer. The image of Ratchet himself strung with lights shoved its way into his primary processing unit.

Somewhere in the main offices, a human was playing this holiday's traditional music. Traditional in western civilization, he had learned, and Miko had discovered this practice in particular, along with hot beverages and gift exchanges, to be her favorite parts of this country's culture. Magnus recalled the expression on her faceplates when he'd read her designation -- her name -- off in wary anticipation. It was sheer dumb luck that she'd in turn read  _ his _ off her scrap of paper, and then declared she knew the perfect thing to give him.

Ultra Magnus was not as adept at reading others as Miko or Ratchet. Even with a thirty foot long list, he was lost. Surely these material items were not the sole purpose for such a charming holiday?

"This practice of stringing numerous lights everywhere they can reach is as endearing as Miko's guitar solo. And  _ Primus no. _ There is not enough human currency in the world to give her want she wants." They remained there, under the lights, instead of going in. Magnus had the distinct feeling this was a choice made solely for him to unload the burden his processes  _ (thoughts?) _ had been plagued with, in private.

He took the silent offer.

"What exactly are we celebrating? What is the significance of giving gifts on this particular holiday?"

Ratchet set his back against the wall and crossed his arms. "Well, Ultra Magnus, if I can manage to give you a clear answer then we could count ourselves experts on human culture. From what I have gathered in my admittedly limited research on the subject, most western human cultures believed in a god who begat an heir among the humans for the sole reason of being tortured and killed. They have separate holidays for his birth and his resurrection from the dead."

Ultra Magnus was sure he looked as shocked as he felt. Judging by Ratchet's puff of steam-filled laughter, his optics ridges had risen to the top of his helm.

"Which are we celebrating tomorrow night?"

"The birth. Not that it truly matters. None of our primary human contacts are particularly religious. Somehow it devolved to simple gift giving and unnecessary chaos."

"The tradition still stands, and I intend on making Miko's excitement well worth it." The look of awe on her face at the vocalization of her  _ name _ had seared itself to his processor. "You have known her longer than I. What is the best course of action, in your opinion?"

Bright optics rolled in his friend's helm. "The  _ best course of action _ is to get her something that made you think of her when you saw it, and will remind her of you when she sees it. Something that is special to the both of you."

"A symbol of…  _ family? _ "

"Naturally," Ratchet scoffed. "And what an odd family we are. You could gift Miko with a magnetic thermo-scalpel and she'd be happy," he vented sarcastically, "but the real tradition is being amongst those who are closest to your spark." The medic placed a solid hand on his shoulder and began to lead them inside.

"Time is of the essence, Ultra Magnus. You have roughly twenty-four planetary hours to acquire an appropriate present for Miko."

Magnus allowed himself to be lead into the mess. He already had a small gift for Miko picked out. Now it was solely a matter of packaging it in the specified patterned paper and placing it under the large (compared to their human companions) specimen of coniferous flora that had been decorated with yet more lights.

\---

His heavy pede steps announced his presence approximately two hundred feet before he laid eyes on the young human female. She was crisscross on the floor, her head leaned on Jack's knees and clicking photos of Team Prime. Magnus opened up a new file bank for all the photos he'd request sent to him after the party.

"Hey Mags! Come over and join the fun! I've got your present!" Miko waved him over, and how could he say no to the littlest Wrecker?

"And I have yours as well, Miko. Here," he placed it lightly under the tree. "I kept it hidden until now to prevent you from opening it prematurely."

"Spoilsport." To his surprise, she picked up another package and handed it to him without even glancing at his offer. "This one's yours. From me, of course!"

"Of course."

His teammates took their turns unwrapping presents and posing for photos. Somehow Nurse Darby had found enough organic fabric to stitch a helm cover for Ratchet, who attempted to politely refuse it. She blinked owlishly from her perch on the comms unit, and Ratchet tried to ignore her by opening up the comms program to tinker.

"C'mon, Ratchet! It's a hat, like I'm wearing!  _ Please _ put it on!" She reached out with the expanse of fabric.

"June, I assure you that while I appreciate your gift, Cybertronians do not require fabric helm coverings to retain heat. I simply do no--"

_ "Ratchet." _

"....very well. But I will complain the entire time it is on my helm."

"That's quite alright."

Ultra Magnus watched as the medic leaned down without parting his optics from the screen.

Small human hands tapped his frame insistently. "Psst. Hey Mags," Miko whispered loudly from next to his left servo. "I saved your present for last!"

Magnus smiled. "I also reserved your gift to me for last. We could open them outside and watch the snowfall?"

"Awesome! Let's do it!"

In no more than two planetary minutes, they had traversed the Autobot Base towards the main hangar entrance. Just as the night before, flakes of snow drifted gently over them, melting off his frame but dusting his human companion with white. The lights hung along the edge of the roofing and provided a soft warm glow against the darkness. Miko sucked in a deep vent of chill air.

"I've gotten so used to Nevada that I'd almost forgotten what snow is like. I mean," she glanced at him, fiddling with her gift, "when I got back to Japan the first time around, it was snowing and stuff but like. I don't know. It's different in America. The snow is...warmer. Somehow."

"Your chosen family resides here. Sometimes the bonds we make ourselves are stronger than the ones given to us by the universe." He moved to sit crisscross, mimicking what he'd seen earlier. "Who is going first?"

Miko sat close to his pede, where the heat has evaporated a small radius of slush. "You go first."

"Alright." He plucked the gift from his lap, turning it this way and that. His inspection gave him no insight, so he began to carefully peel away the layers of patterned paper. "Might I get a hint?"

"Nope," she giggled. The steam puffing from her venting curled between them in another mimicry of scenes he'd just experienced. "Hurry up, I wanna open mine!"

Ultra Magnus obliged her and ripped the remaining paper off. Within lay a small (to his servo) magnetic… something. A flat rectangle of Cybertronian alloys, most likely from Wheeljack's stash, and two tiny but sturdy hinges on one long side.

"Open it dude!"

He did. And gasped.

Blue holograms twinkled to life between them, twirling like spotlights until they aligned and formed an image of the entirety of Team Prime. He recognized the photo as one  _ selfie _ Miko had taken during the celebrations on July Fourth. The fireworks in the background of the image were animated and burst silently behind his team. His family.

"Made it myself. Well, with some help from the Jacks. They both are pretty good with this type of delicate stuff." She nestled closer to his frame. "You can stick it to your chassis and carry your family wherever you go, and no matter how far away you are… we'll be with you."

Not a single vocalization breached his denta. It was one thing to be a mech of few words, and another entirely to be rendered speechless.

"I cannot find any suitable words for how grateful and touched my spark is." He offered his free servo for a lift. "Thank you, Miko."

"You're welcome, Mags." Miko began ripping into her own present with abandon. "Okay big guy,  _ my turn!" _

He simply watched as she lifted the box out of a nest of shredded wrapping. "A jewelry box?"

"Open it, dude," he teased.

Miko tenderly inched the lid up and up and up until she could see the item inside. A fist sized marble of cyberglass lay within next to a tiny silver button. She shot him an inquiring look.

"Our ways of thinking are  _ far _ more similar than we originally thought," he replied, and he gazed back at his hologram image.

A single push of the silver button sent soft red and yellow through the cyberglass. An image of Team Prime --  _ the same image as his hologram _ \-- played across the lid in red. She rotated the marble and an image of her family in Japan played in yellow.

"No matter which side of the world you are on, you will have both of your families close."

If both of them leaked from their optics a bit while gazing at the all the stars and lights and holograms, well.

It was a very nice holiday to celebrate with his family.

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for the amazing Solain-Rhyo!! Miko demanded more screen time than I originally planned, but I think it turned out sweet!! We got two bros bro-ing it out and a sweet gruff uncle Mags and his little Wrecker niece.
> 
> Hopefully it's close enough to what you wanted!!
> 
> To everyone else, please enjoy this thing I wrote!! I WROTE IT WHILE HAPPY WOW THAT'S INCREDIBLE. It was a bitch to crank out bc I was happy and not sad but I felt so good to write, please give my husband Mango the love he deserves.


End file.
